


I Will Not Fall

by reddish



Series: The Zevrina Chronicles [12]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:18:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddish/pseuds/reddish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place before the battle of Denerim against the Archdemon. Erina has just discovered the "catch" of being a Grey Warden against an Archdemon, and her world is shaken. But how will Zevran react?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Not Fall

Erina walked along a long hall of bedrooms in Eamon’s estate, her fingers sliding along the creases in the stonework walls that had seemed so threatening just a week before. The walls had nothing in them for her to fear now, though. It was what they kept at bay that seemed so overwhelming.

It never stopped. She had done everything right. She had covered all her bases and fought battles – _wars_ , even – that meant nothing to her. She had risked everything to make this all happen, and it was all for… what?

“Erina,” Zevran called out behind her. Her stupor and quiet rage broke as she turned to face him.

“Hey.” Her voice was quieter than she had anticipated.

“Where are you going?” His golden eyes narrowed in concern.

“I’m… not sure. I just got done having some meetings, and they were… a lot to handle. I guess I was going to go on a walk.”

“It is dangerous alone at night, is it not?”

Erina smirked at him. “If you want to come, you could just ask.”

The assassin returned the smirk. “When I ask to come, we are not walking.”

Erina felt heat fill her cheeks, and she closed the distance between them. “You somehow make me feel like I’m just a young woman caught up with blushing and flirting… But I never even had that phase. How do you manage that?”

“It is said I have many talents,” Zevran answered, his lips parting into a grin. Those lips attracted her eyeline every time they moved, and she suddenly felt the memory of them on every inch of her skin. Gooseflesh erupted on her limbs.

“Yes, well,” she cleared her throat. “I’m not going to argue against that.”

“Darling, you look as though you are in several places right now, and none of them are here.”

Erina sighed. “There’s… things I have to process, and very little time to do it with.”

“What are you talking about? We have the entire night to, as you say, process things.”

“They’re big things. And I have less time than you think.”

Zevran’s demeanor fell serious. “What happened?”

Erina looked over her shoulder, down the long stony hallway. She grabbed Zevran’s hand and pulled him back into the room he had left. Closing the door behind her, she let out a deep, heavy breath.

“I just got back from a conversation with Riordan.”

“Ah, the Orlesian Warden? What did he have to say?”

Erina pushed off of the door, walking toward Zevran. “That there’s more to being a Grey Warden than I was informed, and I’m not talking about griffons.”

Zevran was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He reached out to grab her upper arms, holding her in place before him. “You are being vague to protect me?”

“Maybe,” she looked away. “Maybe to protect myself. I just… I found out how to kill an Archdemon. Or, well, the standard way.”

“An endless supply of daggers is not the answer, it seems.” Zevran frowned.

“No. Not… permanently. When an Archdemon dies, the spirit of the old god inside of it will look for another vessel to possess, another darkspawn, and it will just make another dragon out of that one.”

“Surely that is the cycle of things,” he suggested. “It takes time to create a dragon, no?”

“Not as much as you’d think. And that’s… not what we signed up for. We want to end the Blight, not stall it.”

Zevran laughed awkwardly. His grip on her arms was getting tighter as she avoided the topic, as was the internal clenching feeling around her stomach.

“So, what do you do? Kill all the Darkspawn so it has nowhere to go, yes?”

“Zevran,” Erina looked up into his searching eyes, wishing she could make her face the stone it used to be. “It looks for taint to find a body to possess. The… The Joining, the Grey Warden’s ritual… we drink darkspawn blood and take the taint within us. Some die, but those who don’t become immune to it in the future so it can’t kill us. But we still carry it. And if a Warden is close enough when the Archdemon dies…”

“No,” Zevran said, shaking his head once, firmly.

“Then the spirit of the demon tries to inhabit us. But it can’t. Because we already have a soul. But it tries, and...”

“No,” he urged, his voice louder.

Erina kept pushing forward, though hot tears were stinging the edges of her eyes. “The souls destroy each other. It’s supposedly the only way to make sure it stays dead.”

Zevran’s fingers were digging into her skin, but it was not her skin that hurt. “That is no way at all,” the assassin hissed through a clenched jaw.  

He released her and turned, looking around the room. In silence, he began gathering items of clothing and various weapons that they had brought with them into the room.

“What are you doing?” Erina asked, struggling to regain her composure. One hand drifted to an arm, where Zevran’s finger marks remained.

“We are leaving,” Zevran announced matter-of-factly.

“We can’t do that. Or… I can’t.”

He paused, looking over his shoulder at her. “Have you not given enough to these Wardens? There are others, besides yourself. What does it harm for you to sneak away now?”

“Other than being wanted by the human nobility of Ferelden for a righteous murder of a noble’s son?”

“So we will leave Ferelden.”

“To go where? We sure as fuck can’t go to Antiva.”

Zevran’s voice was strained, near breaking. It struck her that he was begging, desperate. “There are plenty of other countries. Perhaps Isabela has a ship; she can take us far from this blighted land.”

Erina took a step toward him. “Zevran, I’m sorry to scare you. I am. But there’s more to this, I promise. Let me finish.”

When his eyes met hers, she saw his fears, and she knew then that he could see hers, too.  But he obeyed. Zevran faced her again, but kept the distance between them.

“I will not lose you,” he said, quietly. “I cannot.”

“You can,” she disagreed. “You will, some day.”

Zevran’s full lips were set in a thin line. “No. There is a part of me now that could not survive that pain, Erina. I… I am speaking to you with no pretense. Please believe me.”

“I do,” Erina assured him; she didn’t have time to consider what that really meant. “But you have to listen to me now. There may be another way. Possibly. Morrigan stopped me after I spent an hour screaming at Riordan. She has… an idea. A plot, more like, I’m certain of it, but…”

“What is it?”

Erina explained the details as she knew them to Zevran. The tension in the room decreased steadily as she continued talking; she felt like she could breathe again. Zevran stared at her as she spoke, face eerily still.

“You believe this will work?” Zevran asked quietly.

“I trust Morrigan, yes,” Erina sighed, taking a seat on the edge of the poster bed as the breath left her.

In a second’s time, Zevran sank to his knees in front of Erina and wrapped his strong, lean arms around her. He pulled her forward to rest his head below her chest, simply holding her close to him.

Erina felt tears of overwhelmed uncertainty brim her eyes again. She let her hands fall to his head where her fingers stroked the soft blonde hair that fell like a curtain around his face, tracing the outline of his pointed ears where they stuck out. Slowly, her arms came to embrace his head and shoulders against her, and her lips fell softly to the top of his head as she curled around him. A tear ran free of her stubborn eyes and fell into his hair.

“I need you,” Zevran whispered against her. “Please…”

“I know,” Erina assured him. “I don’t want to go.”

“Then do not. Do not risk it.”

“It’s not that simple. I have a duty here, people to protect, a calling to serve. I can’t run from this, Zev. I don’t run. It’s not who I am. And besides… Riordan and Morrigan must fail before it comes to me. I trust at least one of them.”

Zevran raised his head out of her embrace and met her eyes. His were red with tears she was not allowed to see. “What of Alistair? Should not the more senior Warden offer himself first?”

Erina smiled, placing her palms against his sculpted cheeks. “He’s doing his part right now. And… I don’t think I want to be the only Warden to survive if I have to find another gods-damned King for this place.”

Zevran choked, and a laugh broke free of the lump in his throat.  His hands wrapped warmly around her right hand, raising the back of it to his lips. “You will take me with you?” he pressed her.

“As though I could keep you from following me,” Erina scoffed. “You’ve been a flea in my hair since I met you.”

He grimaced. “That is a disgusting saying. You Fereldens need to be properly educated in your aphorisms.”

“Shut up,” Erina whispered, smiling.

Zevran returned the smile, releasing her hand in order to slide his fingers into her hair and pull her face to his. His lips were soft and warm against her, and his kiss breathed life into her aching, tired, worried soul. She opened herself to him, arms secured tightly around his neck. This was a kiss of solace, of healing, and of need that ran deeper than either of them understood.

Fire growing in her core, Erina broke from the kiss and pressed her forehead to his. “I need you,” she panted.

“Tell me your pleasure,” he responded, trailing brief kisses down her cheek to her neck.

Erina sucked in air as he nibbled at the sensitive skin of her neck, trying to keep her thoughts on track. “I don’t mean… I just, I need _you_ too, Zev.”

She felt his mouth pull into a grin against her. “I am right here, Erina. Always.”

“Good,” she let out an exasperated breath.

He was laughing; she felt it in the way his chest shook against her. Rolling her eyes, Erina grabbed him and pulled him with her as she lay back on the bed. He came willingly with her, sliding atop her body and supporting his weight on his palms on either side of her shoulders.

Pressed to her like this, his face became soft as his body became hard. “I need you to know something,” he said, voice quiet, still.

Erina met the tender look in his eyes and for once, the panicked voice in her mind that flared up when intimacy struck was quiet. She gave him a slow, trusting nod as her hands went to his chest. “Tell me, Zev.”

Zevran’s face was slightly flushed, and his expression was one of concentration and apprehension. She stayed locked on his golden eyes, trying to keep her own nerves relaxed.

He lowered himself closer to Erina, kissing her lips briefly as a soldier might take a nip of alcohol before charging into battle. When he lifted his head and met her gaze again, the calm on his face brought peace to Erina, and she felt the words before he spoke them.

“I love you.”

What she expected to feel was fear. Maybe a chill down her spine. Definitely a need to run. What she felt was comfort, warmth, and a need to stay exactly where she was.

“I know,” Erina smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his body down against hers. “I love you too,” she whispered into his ear, “you idiot.”

Zevran groaned against her, nuzzling into her neck while claiming it with his mouth. Erina wound her fingers into his soft hair, rolling her head back and relishing the attentions of his lips and tongue. His hands were at her leather tunic, unlacing the front so his fingers could slide between the edges.

Fire erupted where his skin touched hers, a fire resulting from the slow kindling of the pile of ashes she thought was her heart. There was life beneath those ashes. There was heat between their bodies.  There was love still to be felt, and a life left to be lived.

She would not fall.


End file.
